


Love Kills

by ShinsoKamiGoodBois



Category: My Hero Academia
Genre: AU, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, I don’t know how to tags, Killing my good boy :(, M/M, Sorry Shinso, Urg, this made me cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-05 20:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19047388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinsoKamiGoodBois/pseuds/ShinsoKamiGoodBois
Summary: Love hurts,Like a needle to the chest.Love hurts,Like a vine around my throat.Love hurts,Like bloodied roses on the floors.Love hurts,And you’ve poisoned me.





	1. Chapter 1

Hitoshi Shinso wasn’t a people person. Anyone who spoke to him for more than a minute could tell this. After all, if people didn’t like him, why should he act like he likes them? 

 

Exactly. It would be ridiculous to do so.

 

So moving into Class 2-A was an interesting experience. Because everyone was so...Friendly, and welcoming.

 

But there was one person that stood out, no matter how he tried to distract his attention.

 

Denki Kaminari.

 

Hitoshi didn’t realize it at first. Something had to happen before he became aware of it. And something did happen.

 

It had been a dreary night. Pouring, heavily there. Hitoshi had been all on his own then, on his knees in front of the grave.

 

It had been dug that day, without a funeral, without ceremony, but her body was undoubtedly under the dirt in front of him. It had barely been two days since he’d seen her, his foster mother, the one person he’d been able to truly connect with, and now she was dead, six feet under the ground, and no one  _ cared _ .

 

Hitoshi knew death was common. It was how he lost his biological parents, both killed by villains. And this mother, this one that was so close to being a viable replacement, was taken by those same clawed hands. 

 

And no one cared, because  _ everyone _ lost someone, far too commonly for anyone’s comfort, but  _ no one cared _ , and that was the fact that seemed the hit him the most.

 

He was alone in front of her grave.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d mourned, wished he’d been there quicker, or called, or never left, or did  _ something  _ **_anything_ ** to prevent her death.

 

But he didn’t. He didn’t do anything useful. He received a call, and got there too late. 

 

The rain was numbing, almost, and it was some time when he’d started walking back that he even felt it. His lips were a worryingly bright blue, he was shivering, it was so…

 

**_Cold._ **

 

Whenever he failed to take care of himself, it was only really his foster mother of Aizawa who would care, (Aizawa-Sensei was very nice person, you see) so imagine his surprise when Denki Kaminari, the only person in the common room at the time, got him blankets and scolded him for being out in the cold so long.

 

And there, in Denki’s warm embrace through blanket upon blanket, Hitoshi broke down. He was already crying when he walked in-Something he hadn’t noticed through the rain, but he only got worse when Denki treated him so...Nicely, motherly, like he belonged.

 

Just like she did.

 

After this incident, they kept quiet on it. They didn’t speak to one another of it, and no one else knew it occured.

 

It was just something that happened, and Hitoshi had no doubt Denki had pushed it to the back of his mind.

 

But for Hitoshi, it was all he could think about.

 

All he could think about, day in and day out for the week, was how Denki’s arms felt around him.

 

It was a week later when they started.

 

He was just sitting in class, finding himself staring at Denki, and he watched as the other talked to Eijirou in that same energetic voice that seemed to attract so many.

 

And he felt a tickle in his throat.

 

Nothing much, just the tickle that signaled the beginning of a cough, one that was stubborn and refused to come out.

 

Until it wasn’t, and he coughed rather harshly into his hand, not harsh enough to attract more than momentary attention, but harsh enough to hurt.

 

And when he looked down, to see what had been forced in the palm of his hand, he paled.

 

Flower petals. Bright, yellow, flower petals, covered in a bit of saliva and, just a tiny bit, of blood stained the tips.

 

He didn’t have much time to think on it, however, because Aizawa entered the classroom in the next moment, forcing him to shove the petals out of sight, into the pocket of his pants.

 

He began coughing up these petals often, and they came in a very similar range of colors. Yellow, black, and an almost amber shade. All colors he prominently saw on Denki.

 

It wasn’t just the petals that tipped him off-He had a tendency to stare at Denki and wish. Wish he could feel that warm embrace, just one more time. 

 

And it was when he realized he wished it could go further than a simple hug, that he knew.

 

He was in love with Denki Kaminari. And these petals were the result.

 

He knew he probably should have told someone the second he realized-That would have been the smart decision-But sue him, he was selfish.

 

He wanted these beautiful flowers, the ones that reminded him nearly every minute what he couldn’t have, all to himself.

 

It got worse, worse than just vomiting petals. Petals turned to bulbs, bulbs turned to fully bloomed flowers, including even a stem. He was sure if they weren’t from his innards, they would make a lovely bouquet.

 

If only.

 

He began vomiting more blood along with the larger flowers, and it was getting difficult to breathe. Something,  _ something  _ was constricting his chest, his lungs, his  _ heart _ , and he feared the moment when it would become so difficult that he’d stop breathing, but he still told no one.

 

These flowers were his, and his alone. If he told someone, they would try to take them away. 

 

And they were his.

 

Hitoshi got worse with every passing day, and every moment he spent even  _ thinking  _ of that bright smile, those shiny amber eyes, that beautiful blonde hair, only brought more flowers from his throat.

 

It was at its worse when the school prom came upon them.

 

Denki, by some chance, managed to ask a girl out without being immediately rejected to the prom.

 

And Hitoshi was proud. Of course he was, it was something Denki had been rather happy about, and anything that made him happy made Hitoshi happy.

 

Right?

 

So why did the constricting vines in his chest grow tighter at just the  _ thought _ ?

 

“Hitoshi? You coming?” Izuku asked through his door, and he coughed another bulb into his hand.

 

“No.” He answered with a strained voice, coughing another flower onto the bed.

 

“Alright. I’ll be back later, kay?” 

 

He made what could have been a noise of confirmation, and listened as the footsteps departed.

 

And...It all sort of came...Crashing down on him.

 

Denki was out at prom with a girl. Denki was at prom with  _ someone else _ . 

 

He and Denki weren’t close. He and Denki would only share the single hug. They would never go past that.

 

They would  _ never _ , not in a  _ million  _ **_lifetimes_ ** be more than that.

 

Hitoshi found breathing impossible-There were large bulbs lodged in his throat, and he had to cough violently to release them. But when they were released, he couldn’t  _ stop  _ coughing. He couldn’t  _ stop _ releasing bulb after bulb onto his white-stained red sheets, coughing until his vision was blurry, until his chest  _ burned _ , until his could hardly think.

 

He collapsed into the mess of flowers he’d made at some point, the coughing-and his own movements-becoming weaker by the second.

 

He looked through blurry eyes at the flowers by his face. Yellow, black, amber,  **_red_ ** .

 

He heard someone trying to get in, jiggling his doorknob almost frantically, but he couldn’t care less. It didn’t matter now. He’d done it.

 

He’d kept these flowers to himself until his last moments.

 

And Hitoshi breathed his last breath with one final, parting thought.

 

_ The flowers are almost as pretty as him. _


	2. Aftermath

Izuku rapped his knuckles against the door again. He knew Hitoshi wasn’t a people person, and the answer would probably be a straight ‘No’, but he felt the need to ask anyhow.

 

“Hitoshi? You coming?” He called, before stopping to listen for the no doubt quiet response that would come.

 

“No.” Hitoshi replied, as expected-Though Izuku did notice his voice sounded strained, as though he might be upset or...In pain. 

 

“Alright. I’ll be back later, kay?” He asked, just barely managing to keep the worry from his voice. Hitoshi had been acting off lately, and Izuku just couldn’t help but worry.

 

Still, he walked over to the elevator and took it down to the common room, where he met Shoto.

 

“Ready?” Shoto asked, and Izuku could only nod. The two departed, walking in silence behind another pair of boys. Izuku found himself eavesdropping.

 

“I saw something weird the other day.”

 

“What’d you see man?”

 

“Some guy was throwing up in the bathroom but like...He left flowers there. Like on the floor and stuff.”

 

“Really? You know who it was?”

 

“Dunno. I think he was from Class 2-A, maybe. Had this crazy purple hair that went all over the place.”

 

“Oh, I think I know him! Uh...Shinso, I think. He got third place in the Sports Festival, didn’t he?”

 

Izuku felt his blood run cold, and he stopped in his tracks. It seemed Shoto had heard as well, because when he glanced over, Shoto himself had the same realization on his face.

 

The two of them dashed back to the dorms, up to Hitoshi’s floor with speed that matched Tenya’s.

 

They hadn’t even gotten in front of Hitoshi’s room before they could hear it.

 

He was choking.

 

Izuku tried frantically at the doorknob-If he used his quirk he might risk further injuring Hitoshi, and he didn’t want that.

 

It was locked.

 

Shoto pushed him aside, and Izuku watched meekly as the other burned the door with amazing control.

 

And he fell to his knees when he saw Hitoshi.

 

This boy, this boy that was so close to him by this point that Izuku considered him a  _ brother _ , was now sprawled out on his bed, still in a pool of his own blood.

 

Maybe the flowers surrounding him would have looked more beautiful without the red.

 

Izuku didn’t realize he was sobbing until Shoto had long since wrapped him up in a consoling hug, shushing him softly and offering very soft sympathies.

 

———

 

For a minute, Shota wasn’t sure he heard right. The words were all there in his mind, all swirling around in a confusing haze, but they couldn’t align to make an understandable statement.

 

“ _ Sensei, did you hear me? He’s not breathing-T-There’s blood everywhere! _ ” He could barely register Mina’s voice, and suddenly all the words seemed to align.

 

_ Hitoshi is dead. _

 

Shota could feel himself swaying on his feet, and he had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing right then and there.

 

“I’ll be there in a minute.” He wasn’t sure if he was even the one saying the words-Everything was suddenly so blurry and disconnected, he wasn’t even sure if he was still there, still breathing, or if he had died too and this was a horrible afterlife.

 

But somehow, with a tiny shred of logicality, he knew it was real. 

 

His son was dead.

 

His son was dead, and he hadn’t been there to prevent it.

 

———-

 

Mashirao couldn’t believe it. Who would? Who would believe Hitoshi Shinso had  _ died  _ in the same building as them without their knowledge?

 

He couldn’t think of anyone. 

 

And yet…

 

Here he was, standing in front of Hitoshi’s coffin.

 

Mashirao looked about at the people gathered. Of course, there was his classmates and teachers-A few members from 2-B as well-But there was something that saddened Mashirao.

 

Hitoshi’s biological parents didn’t come. Somehow, that was the most crushing part of his death.

 

The Bakusquad was devastated-Who could blame them? They’d been closer to Hitoshi than anyone else. 

 

Even Katsuki was solemn-He hadn’t spoken a word since they’d arrived.

 

Somehow, someway, Mashirao was still have trouble believing it. Believing this was real life, not just some horrible nightmare. Believing Hitoshi, the person who had single-handedly saved them any number of times-The person who had the greatest chance of becoming a hero to admire…

 

His friend, was dead.

 

———

 

Denki was in despair. It had been weeks since Hitoshi had been pronounced dead, but…

 

But he still had trouble wrapping his head around it. The idea of this amazing person that he’d tried  _ so hard _ to befriend-This person who had become distant-This person who was probably the most admirable boy on the planet-He wasn’t there anymore.

 

Denki would never see him again. Denki would never get to make him smile again-Or hear his laugh again-Or…

 

Or get close to him.

 

And that was the most crushing feeling in the world. The knowledge that they would never have the opportunity to become close friends-Or something more.

 

Because now Hitoshi was six feet under the ground.

 

Denki hadn’t been able to stand looking at flowers. He didn’t think anyone could-But he was  _ afraid  _ of them. They terrified him, made him freeze up, made it difficult to breathe.

 

Today had been one of the few days he’d left his room. He didn’t talk to anyone-He didn’t think he’d had anything good to say-He just left.

 

Denki walked around town aimlessly, getting sadder by the moment. Every flash of purple, any cat, or even just something simple as a cafe brought tears to his eyes.

 

He stopped in front of a flower shop and stared at some of the flowers on display.

 

How had something like that-Something so harmless, so innocent, so  _ beautiful _ , kill Hitoshi? 

 

Denki knew he wasn’t the smartest person. His test scores told him that, easily.

 

But why was something so simple impossible for him to understand?

 

Why was it so hard to accept that Hitoshi was dead?

 

———

 

Hizashi sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. No one had been the same since Hitoshi died-Himself included, and this had granted most days off. Today was one of such days, where he sat grading papers at his dining room table, with the television on at a low volume.

 

The station changed-Abruptly, and he looked up.

 

_ Breaking news! Another UA student has been found dead in their dorm room! Denki Kaminari from class 2A was found hanging this morning by one of his classmates- _

 

Hizashi couldn’t listen after that.

 

He’d lost both of them too soon.


End file.
